The Whole Truth (The Supercharged Files Book 1)

by Jody Wallace

  My personal favorite. Me in control of anything.

  “I need to finish your DNA tests.” Beau placed the needle and hose on a clean metal tray and leaned against the lab counter, staring across at me. “I might start to wonder if there’s something about your DNA you want to conceal.”

  Any lummox could have figured that out by now. On TV they used fake blood to hide alien origins, but I couldn’t fake my own arm.

  “Why didn’t you run these tests five months ago?” How did Yuri and Al expect me to avoid Beau’s DNA tests forever? It was just another resentment to place on their doorstep in a nondescript brown baggie and set on fire.

  “They’re tedious as hell.” He gestured at one of the large silver machines near the wall. “I could do most DNA testing without sending it through the Registry, but then I’d never have time for anything else. Our machines aren’t as advanced as their equipment.” The scowl on his face underscored his opinion of his primitive equipment—and my balkiness.

  “How about Labor Day?” I suggested. “I need time to get my iron up.”

  “Cleo,” Beau said, “if there’s something you’re not telling me, I can find out as soon as my abilities return.”

  “If they return.” Hardly anyone who’d suffered a breakdown in recent months showed any signs of supra recovery. Adam Donning and several others were comatose despite Yuri and the other companies enlisting every supra health specialist they could find.

  “They’ll be back,” he said, unperturbed. “Why don’t you level with me? I might understand your situation better than you think.”

  He was doubtless referring to the fact his abilities ran deeper than anyone suspected. So he could see chameleons in fade and hide from anyone, anytime. It was nothing that would make people hate him (more). They already seemed to know he could go invisible.

  My ability, on the other hand, was less innocuous.

  “It’s not that.” I sat on a stool and fiddled with a pipette. If he didn’t drop this, I was going to have to chameleon my way out of it. Hey, he was the one who’d trained me.

  “I think it is.” Beau rounded the table and faced me. “You’re going to lose this fight. Let me run the tests. I won’t send it to the Registry lab. I’ll discuss the results with you before we do anything. It’s not like this situation hasn’t occurred before.”

  I wanted him to be conning me, but he was one hundred percent sincere. No doubt supras before me had wanted to downplay an ability, which reminded me of Lou’s rant about supras who abused their powers. Which reminded me how everyone would loathe me once they knew what I’d done, what I could do. All right, my inner circle wouldn’t hate me, but since I hated all of them right now, that was no balm.

  Deliberately misunderstanding Beau, I said, “What do you mean, this has occurred before? You forced some other poor woman to be your beard because you’re scared of sex?”

  Beau threw his head back and laughed. He really hooted. I stared at him in amazement because I’d never seen him laugh before. Chuckle, smirk, snort, but never laugh like that.

  Of course, it would be directed at me.

  “Cleo, where do you come up with this stuff?”

  “You must be asexual.” I pointed the pipette at him and hoped Jolene wasn’t listening. “Why wouldn’t you want people to know you’re gorgeous? Why wouldn’t you want dates? If I looked like that, I’d flaunt it.”

  “You have no trouble getting attention.” He crossed his arms and rocked back on his heels. “Arlin pants after you. Can it be this is a feminine ploy for compliments?”

  “John doesn’t pant after me.” John would hardly even talk to me.

  “He’s as jealous as a dog with a bone,” Beau said. His gaze dropped to my chest and then my legs. I was wearing a coral blouse and his favorite Hawaiian print cropped pants. “There’s nothing wrong with the way you look.”

  “At one point you implied I was fat.” I thought for a moment. “Two points. Maybe more. Give me time, I can remember them all.”

  He stroked his chin, as if considering my claim. “Did you believe me?”

  “No.” I don’t know whether I’d have believed him I hadn’t seen his lies for myself. “It still hurt my feelings. You are a mean person. Who’s asexual.”

  At this moment, he didn’t look asexual. He watched me with a predatory expression, his dark eyes hooded and a smile playing on his lips.

  He’d also closed the distance between us without me noticing. With me perched on the stool, that put us at eye level.

  “Do you want me to kiss your feelings and make them better?” He nudged my knee aside so he could stand right in front of me. “Then you can tell me whether or not I’m asexual.”

  I did.

  No, I didn’t! “This is stupid. Can we get back to work?” No parts of our bodies were touching, but not by much. If I closed my legs to ward him off, they’d wrap around his hips. Who would have guessed two weeks ago that this man would develop a bad habit of invading my personal space?

  “You’re the one interfering with work, Cleo. I need your blood.” He caught my hand, flipped my wrist, and stroked a dark finger up the underside of my arm until he reached the bend, where my veins pulsed closer to the skin.

  Then he stroked down, lingering at my wrist. “Your pulse is elevated. Am I making you nervous?”

  Better a coward who fades than a victim of Beau’s hotness. I concentrated and felt an incipient tingle.

  “Stop that.” He grabbed my chin and forced me to meet his eyes. “Don’t fade, Cleo. We’re in the middle of a conversation. Even I don’t do that.”

  Were his suprasenses returning already? Talk about rebound. “How did you know?”

  “You squint and hold your breath.”

  I widened my eyes and exhaled loudly. “I do not!”

  He splayed his fingers across my cheek, his pinky feathering my neck. His hip brushed my inner thigh. “Did you know you can’t fool another chameleon who’s touching you?” he lied.

  “Gee, you never mentioned that.” I scooted away from him. Okay, I didn’t. I let my thigh connect with his body and stared at his mouth for purely investigative reasons. “Why did you fade yourself for years?”

  Beau licked the corner of his bottom lip. “Isn’t it obvious?”

  “No.”

  He leaned forward like he was going to whisper the answer. He’d agreed to tell me if I pretended to be his girlfriend, after all.

  A shiver raced down my spine. Before he could say anything, the lab door opened.

  John loomed in the doorway, in a suit and not a lab coat. “What the hell are you doing, Walker?”

  Beau didn’t have the good grace to back away from me. “I’m about to take Cleo’s blood.”

  “Doesn’t look like it.” John frowned, and it was a new kind of frown. Not the crease between his brows, the worry wrinkle, but a black glower that put all his other frowns to shame. “Cleo, I need to talk to you.”

  “Now?” Had somebody tipped him off I was questioning the inner circle?

  “Soon.” He was still frowning. “Tonight.”

  “You’re back from Atlanta early,” I commented lamely. I twisted on the stool, elbowing Beau until I escaped his zone of influence. This was not how I’d wanted John to find out about Beau and myself.

  This was also not how I wanted to begin my interrogation of John’s loyalty to YuriCorp, him annoyed with me for...what? If he didn’t want me, why couldn’t Beau have me?

  Guess I’d find out all sorts of things tonight.

  “Dinner?” I suggested.

  “I’ll cook.” John didn’t wait to see whether I’d agree to come to his apartment, he just slammed the lab door. In the security camera focused on the outer hallway, we watched him stalk down the hall toward Al’s office, posture stiff and shoulders squared.

  “Guess somebody told him about us,” Beau said.

  “There is no us,” I hissed.

  Beau pursed his lips. “There’s no you an
d John, either.”

  “What’s your point?”

  “I don’t have one.” His mask told a different story. “Just stating the obvious.”

  According to his shadow, Beau was the one who was jealous—of John. If I hadn’t been able to read him, I’d never have suspected. When the hell had this happened? It was either of recent origin or his defunct fade had hidden it from my lie sight.

  If a fade do that, everything he’d ever said was now suspect.

  Every chameleon I’d ever questioned was now suspect. Well, hell.

  He grabbed the metal tray with the phlebotomy equipment and dragged it toward us, his face impassive. “Give me your blood before I hold you down and take it.”

  I did. This gig was up anyway. What difference did it make if Beau found out a week ahead of schedule?

  ~ * ~

  Before I could park in John’s apartment lot, I had to wait for a pizza car to back out of the last space. I followed the spicy scent of tomato and grease straight to John’s doorstep.

  He stood in the foyer waiting for me, a white cardboard box balanced on his hand. Contrary to our other out of office encounters, I hadn’t dressed for this occasion. In fact, I’d downplayed my charms as much as possible, when your charms are as ample as mine. An old Superman Festival T-shirt, courtesy of Dan, and a pair of khaki shorts would hopefully keep the evening on track.

  I’d also worn my running shoes. While John wasn’t somebody I imagined as willing to harm his fellow supras, I also hadn’t imagined him as a corporate spy. I’d even considered inviting Samantha. Half Pint was more protection than nobody, but she’d said something about giving Alex the what for. Since she’d been wearing stilettos and a glare, I hadn’t pursued that avenue further.

  All in all, I felt underprepared for anything the evening had in store. Butterflies that had nothing to do with the fact I’d been trying to charm John for months plagued me. I was down to John and Yuri as the leak, and John made so much more sense than Yuri, I felt like he was a done deal.

  John closed the door behind me and locked the knob, the deadbolt, even the chain. My stomach lurched.

  “Expecting a break in?” I tried to keep my voice light instead of trembly and shrill.

  “I always lock the door.” John clicked the chain into place with a final snap. He still wore his suit, though he’d removed his jacket.

  To distract myself from my anxiety, I indicated the pizza. “I thought you were cooking?”

  “I got home late.” He flipped open the lid of the pizza box for my approval, like a wine steward swooshing a label in front of a diner.

  “Al knows I’m here.” I glanced at the locked door and back at the food, which he’d placed on the kitchen island. “So does Beau.”

  “Walker can bite...” He stopped himself before I could read the mask that had popped around his face. Huh. I crowded closer, and he opened a cabinet door, his elbows forcing me back. “Cleo, I’m not trying to hide the fact I invited you to dinner. The whole company probably knows. The walls have ears in that place.”

  I didn’t want John to think I was nervous, so nervously I tried to explain. “I wasn’t gossiping. Al said something about meals with his kids and I said you and I were having pizza. Make that dinner. I didn’t know it was pizza at the time.”

  As I babbled, John sorted through the shelves for glasses and plates. I peeked over his shoulder to see great disorder inside his cupboard. It was like his glove box. Stacked mugs tottered next to books propped against a blender beside a casserole dish with wine glasses in it.

  I finished my near incoherent speech with, “So if I get a call tonight I’d better answer it.”

  John frowned. “Red or white?”

  Was he referring to my face? I’d go with rosy pink.

  He tried again. “Red or white wine?”

  Wine tasted like sour grape juice to me but I wasn’t the one with the magic tongue. “Whatever you’re having.”

  “Red.” He popped the cork on a green bottle and poured two stemmed glasses halfway full. Then he set plates beside the pizza box.

  I smiled and cupped the glass as if I planned to enjoy it. “I bet this goes great with pizza.”

  John handed me a spatula, a fork and a linen napkin. “Let’s find out. I usually go for a Pinot Noir, but I thought you might prefer something sweeter.”

  I slid two pieces of pizza onto my plate and took a seat at John’s six person table, perched on the edge of my chair like a shelf sitter. When John chose the chair next to me instead of across from me, I almost flinched.

  “’S good,” I said, my mouth full of crust and pepperoni. I added wine to the mix while the taste of the pizza would override it. “You’re right, this is much better than a Pinot Noir.”

  “You’re a terrible liar.” He sipped his wine and wiped his mouth on the cloth napkin. “Anybody ever tell you that?”

  “That’s what you think.” I pretended to adjust the cushion on the chair seat, discreetly inching away from him. “Are you a good liar?”

  “It depends on who I’m lying to.”

  Why in the world had he plopped down a foot away from me? I mean, his Pilgrim name was Miles Standoffish. “You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?”

  “That depends on what you’re asking.” Flutters shadowed his face, not enough to pin him on. “And yes, I know lying wouldn’t do me any good.”

  If he took the Alfonso route and refused to answer me, I wasn’t sure how I’d get results. How could I trick the information out of him? “What is it you wanted to talk about tonight?”

  “It can wait. Let’s enjoy our meal.”

  “Okay.” I flicked onions off the pizza. “Tell me how you discovered your abilities. I was thirteen. At first I thought I was going nuts and... My story is too depressing. What’s yours?”

  “Both my parents were supras,” John said. “I knew it was a possibility the whole time.”

  “What was it like, growing up and knowing there was a whole world of people you weren’t allowed to talk about?”

  “I went to a private school where a lot of supra children are sent.”

  I grinned. “Cool. Is it called Hogwarts?”

  “No.” The bland expression on John’s face didn’t so much as flicker. Maybe he wasn’t hip to the young adult fiction scene. Or the New York Times bestseller scene. Or the blockbuster movie scene.

  I nibbled some cheese. “What was your first job where you got to use your powers?”

  “Starting out, I worked for a PI firm.”

  “So did Lou Lampey.” I hoped this didn’t mean John was about to treat me to a rant about a supra police force. “Did you work with her family’s company?”

  “There’s more than one supra PI firm in the Southeastern United States,” John said, more sharply than I think he intended, because after he said it, he cleared his throat. “There are more PI firms than consulting companies. They’re all small.”

  “Do you think we need a police force? Lou does.”

  He rose and hovered over the pizza box, his back to me. “We seem to be functioning without formal checks and balances. The good guys might not always win, but that’s life.”

  What did he mean by the good guys didn’t win? “Speaking of good guys and bad guys, did Yuri tell you Psytech and Baumhauser admitted they’ve had incidents of sabotage?”

  As soon as it was out of my mouth, I knew it was a mistake.

  John whirled, his hair falling out of its sedate side part. A half-eaten piece of pizza flipped off his plate onto the floor. “Psytech and Baumhauser got hit? How the hell did that happen?”

  He hadn’t known. Maybe he wasn’t supposed to know. “I assume the same way it happens to us. Does that surprise you?”

  He bent to clean the tomato sauce that had splattered out of the escaped pizza. “We’ve been operating under the assumption YuriCorp was being targeted. Doesn’t it surprise you?”

  “I guess. It’s easier to wrap my brain around greed and
corporate espionage.” I craned sideways so I could see his profile. He tossed the crust into the trash and stared at the countertop. “If it’s not one big corporation trying to take out another, what could it be?”

  “I have no idea,” he growled. A mask fluttered around his face.

  “You know, I’m not burned out,” I commented. “I can see lies.”

  “All right.” John sat beside me heavily and drained his wine glass. “I have a theory. I think whatever group is after us has enlisted norms to help do...whatever they’re doing.”

  “Why do you think that?” I needed to work the topic around to, Hey, are you a corporate spy?

  “I haven’t smelled any supras at the companies where we’ve been hit. On several occasions, I cleared the premises before the job, and we got hit anyway.”

  “What if it’s all norms? The US government, trying to weed us out?” Conspiracy theories rose like a high tide. “Maybe it’s a secret association and they’re hunting us, like Buffy hunted vampires. What if they find our nest?”

  “You watch too much television,” John said. “These are burnouts, not slayings. It’s not the same thing.”

  “Adam Donning and the other consultants are in comas.” My brain spun its little hamster wheel, sawdust flying in all directions. “Maybe they’re seeing how far they can push us. Seeing what it takes to negate our powers.” As I said it, it felt right. “We’re guinea pigs.”

  “I don’t think so.” His certainty made me doubt my logical conclusion. “If that were the case, why target a single company and restrict it to job sites? They’d target all sorts of supras, in all fields and walks of life.”

  “They did hit other companies,” I pointed out. “Psytech. Baumhauser. Maybe more. Who can grasp the minds of maniacs? Or the US government.”

  “Still restricted to consultants. There’s only one explanation.” John poured himself a second glass of wine. “Greed.”

  I sipped my wine and studied him over the rim. His brow wrinkled as he frowned in concentration, a familiar sight. “What does Yuri think about your theory?”

  “I haven’t shared with him. In Atlanta, as far as I could tell, we were the only supras in the building, and they pegged Walker. It could have been any of us. You. We can’t let that happen to you, Cleo,” he said with a peculiar intensity.